Tamed by the Lycan Prince

1- THE LOCKER ROOM

CHAPTER ONE

-WILHELMINA-

The long-awaited day had arrived, heralding the commencement of the revered Alpha Games. Participating in this event was a dream come true for me. Imagine this – if I win, I'll be crowned the Alpha of the legendary Gravemaw Hounds! It's been my ultimate dream since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. I've always had my sights set on leading the pack, ever since I can remember. And now, with victory in my sight, that dream feels closer than ever.

Excitement pulsed through my veins as I paced back and forth in the locker room, eagerly anticipating the start of the games. The early morning light filtered in, casting a soft glow on the empty space around me. Just a few early risers were scattered about, like eager bees buzzing before the hive comes to life. But soon enough, the place would be bustling with energy and anticipation as all the other competitors arrive. The calm before the storm, they say. Well, I can't wait for the storm to hit!

The locker room burst open with a bang as in sauntered my two older brothers, Weldon and Dermon Growler. I couldn't help but grin as I spotted them approaching, so I waved them over eagerly. But my excitement quickly faded when I realized they weren't alone - standing next to them was none other than Boris Gravemaw, the alpha's very own son.

Boris's gaze swept across the room, sizing up his competition with a quick flick of his eyes before they landed on me. The corners of his mouth curled up into a cocky grin, transforming his stoic expression into one that practically oozed arrogance. His dark eyes sparkled mischievously, as if he knew a secret that no one else did.

Boris, in a display of ostentatious nonchalance, sauntered over to me. His black leather boots clanged loudly against the metal floor, each step echoing like an unwanted forewarning. As he got closer, the scent of pine and musk, his signature scent, which was potent enough to make my head spin was getting increasing difficult to ignore. Still playing it cool, I crossed my arms over my chest and tilted my chin up, a rebellious spark flickering in my eyes.

"Well look who we have here," Boris' deep voice resonated through the room as he approached me, his confident smirk never leaving his face.

"If it isn't my determined Wilhelmina Growler," he continued, drawing out each syllable of my name with a mixture of delight and mockery. "Preparing to steal my crown?"

"I'm not stealing anything, Boris," I retorted, throwing his name back at him with the same amount of mockery. "I fully intend on winning it fair and square."

Boris let out a loud and hearty laugh that echoed across the vast room. The rich texture of his voice was akin to the sound of a distant thunderstorm, foreboding yet oddly comforting. He ran a hand through his jet-black hair, pushing it back to further reveal his devilishly handsome face.

"Always the little fighter, aren't you?" His words were spoken in jest.

"But why waste your efforts on a fight that's already won?" Boris continued, his words hanging in the air like an unfinished song. His smirk seemed to grow even wider, devouring his face with smug satisfaction.

"I beg your pardon?" I spat out, my brows furrowing in confusion and annoyance. I bristled at his audacity, my hands itching to slap that irritating grin off his face. But I held back, keeping my demeanor as icy and composed as a winter's dawn.

"Drop out of the games, Wilhelmina," he said, his voice low and serious this time. The room was suddenly too quiet - as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the next note in this daunting melody. Boris leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Save yourself the trouble. The position of Alpha is as good as mine."